


on the edge

by murmeltearding



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 09:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murmeltearding/pseuds/murmeltearding
Summary: OC needs help getting through the day with her Anxiety soaring. She calls Wrench to help, but he has his own issues to fight.





	on the edge

**Author's Note:**

> Another fluffy, angsty one shot because I just feel I need to write those just now.

[are you home?]  
[nope in the car… whats up?]  
[are you texting while driving? bad boy! i just wanted to ask you if i can come by… forget about it if you’re busy though]  
[im not busy… just driving around. ill be there in 15.]  
I put my phone to the side and stared at nothing in particular for a moment or two.   
“It’s okay.” I whispered to myself. “You’re a good person. You deserve good things.” I took a deep breath, consciously, breathing in until I could no more. My lungs felt too tight and squeezed up inside my chest. I let the air out, probably much too quickly, only to suck in another deep breath. “It’s all good.” I told myself. I knew I was supposed to say it out loud, but I still felt stupid talking to myself in the empty flat.   
I sat with my back to the window let the sun warm my back. I watched the squares of light the sun painted on the floor and the seemingly weightless dust motes that danced in the air.  
Inhale, Exhale.  
The dust motes’ lazy flight turned frantic for a second, as my breath disturbed the air.   
Inhale, Exhale.   
Inhale peace, Exhale anxiety.   
“Fuck, can’t I just be normal?” I thought. This was fucking unfair. Other people just went through life, not having a care in the world about this bullshit and here I was sitting, unable to even breathe normally for no reason at all.   
I picked up my phone again and opened pinterest. I couldn’t allow my mind to wander. It would only wander downwards from here.   
It took a conscious effort to focus on the display. Yea, of course. When I was supposed to work, pinterest would suck me in like a vortex, but now, when I wanted it to, it did nothing.   
Frustrated I threw the phone to the side again and buried my face in my hands. Inhale, Exhale. Slowly, Deeply.   
I checked the time to find only five minutes had passed since Wrench’s last text. Fuck.  
I had met him at a self-help group a few months ago. He was suffering from bouts of depression and anxiety, same as me, same as everyone in the group.   
Inhale, Exhale.   
I had been going to the group for almost a year but had never managed to connect with anyone. Most of the others seemed to have their shit together so much better than I did, they had lives and families and I didn’t want to invade, so I just kept to myself.   
The day when Wrench had shown up though, things had changed. Everyone had just stared at him, when he’d come into the room with his spiky mask and jacket and personality. He had spent his first few meetings simply watching the others talk; his arms crossed in front of his chest and had occasionally nodded to himself in agreement. I had instantly liked him, but talking to new people, especially if I liked them, was impossible.   
When Wrench had first started to talk in front of the group, the others had looked at him in confusion. The mask didn’t only hide his face, but changed his voice as well. His voice had reminded me of an 80s robotic voice, like an answering machine or something. Even though his facial features were hidden behind the mask he couldn’t hide his emotions. When he talked, he did so in an animated way, gesturing and moving with his words. It was impossible not to empathize with him.  
The way he had managed to tell the story about his traumatizing childhood, so real and open and vulnerable, yet in the most hilarious manner had made me laugh. Laughing was usually frowned upon when people told their stories in front of the group, but he had just looked at me and shrugged. “Fucked up, right?!” he had said and looked straight at me, with two questionmarks on his LED Display.   
“Right!” I had answered, still trying to get myself back under control.   
At the next meeting, he had taken the chair next to me and had made me stay for coffee afterwards. Chatting with him had been irritating at first, because of the voice and the mask and all, but the more we had talked, the more I had started liking him. 

My phone’s vibrate pulled me back into reality. [get ready ill be there in a minute] Wrench had texted.   
I got up from the sofa and slipped into my sneakers. It was warm outside and I decided I didn’t need a jacket. Tank Top and Jeans were enough.   
Grabbing my phone and keys, I hurried outside and sped down the stairs. I didn’t want to make him wait.   
[im out. where are you?] I quickly texted him.   
No reply was necessary, as I saw his car shoot around the corner. His driving, when he was in the car by himself, was reckless to say the least, but I knew once I was in there with him, he’d slow down almost enough to be within the speed limit. Almost.   
He braked and stopped just in front of me and before I could make it to the car, he had bent over and opened the door for me.   
“Juuuuust on time!” he exclaimed, looking at his nonexistent watch as I swiftly moved into the car and pulled the door shut.   
“Hey!” I murmured and bent over to hug him. “Life is a shithole!”  
“That bad?” he murmured. That close to his face I could hear his real voice under the synthesized version of it.   
“Yea. I can’t take this anymore.” I sighed, fighting back tears.   
“Relax. I’ll take care of you.” He squeezed me tighter, which pressed the spikes of his mask into my cheek and the ones on his jacket against my chest. Usually I would protest and he’d squeeze me harder, but today I didn’t. He quickly loosened his grip once he noticed I really wasn’t in a playing mood today.  
I closed my eyes and let myself relax against him. He smelled vaguely of weed and gun oil and leather and over the last few months, my brain had learned to associate those smells with safety. I felt the constriction in my chest ease a bit.   
I took a deep breath and sagged against him.   
“Where are we going?” I asked when the car started moving.   
“Have you ever been up on the cliffs north of town?” he didn’t even try to surprise me. He knew surprises would only make me feel even shittier.   
“Yea, once or twice…”   
“The sunset there is magical this time of the year.” he murmured. “And there’s no cameras there.” Asterisks appeared on his visor as I slowly sat up and put on my seatbelt.   
No cameras meant he could take off his mask. 

He had been reluctant to take it off in front of me at first, claiming he never took it off around people. A few weeks after we had started hanging out though, he had managed to spill half a beer over himself and the whole thing had started smoking. Despite probably almost suffocating under it, he had made me promise not to laugh or stare at him before he had taken the mask off.   
I had of course promised, but once he had revealed himself to me, I hadn’t been able to help myself and stare at his face anyways. I hadn’t been able to find a reason for him to hide under a piece of plastic all the time.   
“You promised!” he’d said, turning away, hiding.   
“Well… I mean… why do you wear it?” I had hugged him from behind and whispered in his ear.   
“I’m fucking hideous!” he’d insisted.   
“Umm… I don’t think so” I’d murmured, forcing him to turn around. He had turned, but hidden his face behind his hands and I had struggled to pull them away to see him once more, worming my way between his arms from underneath. He had been reluctant to let me see him again at first, but finding me pressed to him so closely, he hadn’t been able to help himself and risk a glance downwards, at my cleavage. His arms had grown weak at the sight and ever since, he told everyone who cared to ask and also those who didn’t, that my breasts had magical powers. His hands had limply fallen to the side, his gaze stuck on my chest and I had been left to stare at his face.   
His light blue eyes had been fixed downwards and I had slowly and gently dared to move my own hands upwards, to touch him.   
After knowing him for so long, it was kind of odd, to be able to touch him for the very first time.   
Some stubble dusted his cheeks and the mask had left a soft imprint on the edges. His nose was a bit too big for his face and slightly crooked, but nothing out of the ordinary. The red portwine stain around his left eye contrasted starkly with his pale skin, but the way his shaggy hair hung over it, it covered half his forehead and most of the stain.  
“Aren’t you repulsed?” he’d whispered, his eyes locking on mine.   
“Why would I be?” I pulled my eyebrows together and let my fingers glide over his soft cheek.   
“Because I’m fucking hideous.”  
“I really don’t think you know what hideous means.”   
“This…” he pointed at his face vaguely.   
“Nope.” I had stood up on tiptoe and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips for the very first time. We had never talked about us before, about what exactly our relationship was, but somehow kissing him had felt right at that moment.

A speedbump we were going over much too fast was pulling me back to the present.   
“Slow down a bit, will you?” I murmured, putting my hand on his knee.   
“Sorry… I’m just…. I was actually so happy you texted, you know… I’ve been spiraling a bit myself…” he admitted.  
“What? And here I go on and on about how shitty my own life is? Why didn’t you say anything?”   
“I… didn’t want to bother you, I guess… I mean, I know you’ve been struggling yourself those last few weeks… I wanted to be strong for you.“  
“Wrench…“ I turned, so I could face him. “This,” I pointed my fingers between the two of us, “is a two way street. You can really always come talk to me!”   
He had been switching his attention between the road and me as I was talking. Now he slowed down and stopped at the side of the street. We were out of town already and a grassy hill was rising to our right. To our left, a few hundred meters from the street, was the ocean. There weren’t too many cars going by this time of day and all was calm.   
Wrench pulled back his hood and fumbled with his mask for a moment, before he pulled it off and threw it onto the back seat in annoyance.   
“Thank you.” he whispered. His eyes swam with unshed tears.   
“Oh Wrench!” I stretched and pulled him close over the middle console. He wrapped his arms around me and held on to me like his life depended on it, fingers painfully digging into my skin. Like a drowning man would hold on to a rescuer. It was a bit painful actually, but I didn’t mind. He rarely ever showed me this real, raw part of him. He must be feeling awful if he allowed himself to do so now.   
He didn’t outright cry, but I felt I felt him shake against me.   
“What’s happening?” I asked, voice soft.  
“I just…“ he stopped talking as another bout of sobs shook him. “I can’t be strong anymore. I don’t have the energy.” he whispered.   
“You don’t have to be strong all the time.” I answered, squeezing him close to my chest. I was close to tears myself.   
“What kind of man does that make me then?”  
“The real kind… the sexy and funny kind that I love.” I tried cheering him up.   
He sighed against me deeply and I felt him shift his grip on my shoulders.   
“You don’t have to be strong for me. You can be real. I won’t think less of you for it.” I whispered. He moved some more and brought us almost face to face. I placed my fingers under his chin and forced him to face me.  
“We can manage this shithole that calls itself life together.” I murmured, staring into his light blue eyes. ”We’ll sail that ship or however the saying goes.”   
He snorted. “You’re the worst at motivational speaking.”  
“But… I made you smile.” I grinned.   
“Yea.” he whispered, all serious again, his face going soft.  
“You actually unlocked the override to my anxiety. It goes away when someone else feels equally shitty or worse. So really, I should be the one thanking you.”   
He sighed deeply and let his head hang lower again, staring down between the two of us.   
“So pretty.” he whispered, barely audible.   
I rolled my eyes and couldn’t hold back a small smirk. Of course he’d be staring at my magic breasts again.   
“Earth to Wrench, may-day” I mumbled and pulled away from him.   
“I’m feeling so much better already. Thank you.” he said when he faced me again. His eyes were still red, but the small smile he shot me was genuine.   
After a moment to collect himself, he started the motor again.   
Shaking his head softly, he checked the mirror and pulled back into traffic.   
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.   
“Just about how if I’d decided to go to the Thursday group instead of to the Friday group, I’d have never met you.”   
“Damn, that would suck.” I murmured. “I’m glad you didn’t.” I gently squeezed his knee.   
“Me too.” 

We didn’t have to drive much farther. After a few more minutes on the asphalt street and a few hundred meters on a steep gravel road, Wrench stopped the car. He left the mask in the back seat. Out here he didn’t need it.   
I got out of the car and followed him. The cliff we were standing on overlooked the ocean. The wind carried tiny droplets of water up from the sea. All was calm except for the sound of waves far below us and the cries of seagulls from above. Farther out on the water, a few sailboats were floating towards their harbor, their sails proudly filled with the wind. Occasional distant shouts were audible from the sailors, if the wind blew just right. 

Wrench took my hand and we walked towards the edge together. We both knew today was a day for being right on the edge, just one short step away from actual death. We were joined only by our hands, alone in our heads, but together in our hearts.   
Stopping right on the edge, with our toes lining up with the end of the world, we moved closer to each other and put our hands around each other.   
Just one small wrong move would be our death.   
In this very moment, the sense of dread and death and the adrenaline within our bodies made sense. Not produced by our messed up brains, but by real danger.   
Wrench edged his feet the tiniest bit closer to the edge, so his toes were off the ground. I swallowed nervously but followed him and did the same.   
Now, the anxiety really made sense. I was terrified, but at the same time I felt free; able to think for the first time in weeks. I deeply breathed the salty air, letting it fill me up, forcing my constricted chest to expand. When Wrench edged forward even farther, I didn’t follow.  
“Be careful.” I whispered, taking a step back from the edge so I could save him in case he slipped.  
“Isn’t this glorious?” he whispered, gaze fixed on the horizon, where the round orb that was the sun just met the water. Its reflection was so long, it almost reached the shore. The sky was slowly taking on an orangeish-tint and with it the ocean too. The wind freshened up a bit and the waves grew higher, the sound of the waves clashing against the rock beneath us increasing in volume.  
The moment really was glorious. With our pristine watching spots it almost felt as if nature was creating this beautiful sight for no one but us.  
Wrench didn’t move, just stared straight ahead. The distant look on his face made it obvious he was somewhere else, somewhere far away. He was at peace with himself and the world, at least for the moment.   
I let go of his hand and sat down on the ground, moving forward until my legs were dangling over the edge.   
He watched me for a moment and then stepped back from the cliff as well.   
“Be right back.” he said and jogged to the car.   
I placed my hands behind me in the dirt and leaned back, closing my eyes. It was still nice and warm, but the wind made me shiver.   
Half a minute later, Wrench appeared next to me again. He sat down and wrapped a blanket around the both of us.   
“Thank you.” I whispered and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.   
He said nothing, just leaned against me.   
This was so comfortable. I felt secure with him, with the knowledge I could be who I was with him and didn’t have to hide behind a veil of fake cheerfulness, my own version of his mask. I knew he understood me when I didn’t even make sense to myself. He was my rock in the surf, same as I was for him, even though we both made for brittle rocks sometimes. My heart warmed with contempt and I snuggled closer to him, so our legs were touching from hip to knee.  
He rubbed his leg against mine in reply but his gaze remained focused on his lap.   
“I knew I should have done that in the car.” he cursed.   
I looked down at his fingers, where he was struggling to roll a joint. Laughing I tented my hands around his, to somewhat shield him from the wind.   
“Better?” I asked.   
“Much.” With a few quick movements he rolled the weed up and quickly licked the paper closed and put the joint between his lips. I made him a tent with my hands again, as he lit it up and took a deep drag.   
“This is fucking perfect.” He murmured, letting the smoke out through his nose. “The best spot in town with the prettiest girl in the country and the smoothest weed in the world.” He wrapped his arm around me and handed me the joint.   
I chuckled and leaned against him, letting my head rest on his shoulder. My heart still felt heavy, but knowing I wasn’t alone with these bullshit feelings made them somewhat more bearable.   
A sense of peace settled on my stressed out brain as the weed took its effect. I closed my eyes.  
He put his arm around my back and let his head rest on top of mine. Smoking, wordlessly passing the joint between the two of us, we watched the sun sink down behind the horizon, getting smaller and smaller until it vanished behind the water and nothing but a soft glow remained.   
Peaceful… for the moment.


End file.
